Page 43 of Demon's Bride

“I’ll put the word out. Perhaps there’s someone in one of our other cities or libraries who’s studied this language.”

“Thank you,” I tell him, spinning around and infinitely gratified to find him back within touching distance. “I appreciate that.”

If I stop to think about it for too long, it might strike me as a little strange—how eager I am to be near him after not even having spent a full day as his… what? Wife, consort, mate?

There’s still so much I don’t know about him, still so much hanging over our heads, still so much we have to discuss regarding everything that’s happened between us in the last twenty-four hours. Right at the moment, though, something else is much, much more interesting.

I unfasten the button holding the front of his maroon jacket together and slide my hands beneath the fabric. Wrapping them around his waist, I tug him toward me and lean my face against him. He comes to me without a moment of hesitation.

His purr kicks up at my touch. Faint, like he’s trying to smother it, but it’s there.

“Allie,” he says, voice low and graveled. “You haven’t told me about the tension between you and Vayla.”

“It’s nothing,” I say, meaning it. I’m much more interested in the wood-smoke and spice of his skin than I am in talking about the beautiful demon female with the bad attitude.

“It’s not nothing.” All that graveled huskiness is shot through with a growl. “If I need to speak with her about—”

“Don’t,” I say quickly, pulling away a few inches to look up at him. “Really, please don’t. Let me handle it. If I need your help, I’ll ask for it.”

Vayla’s truly the least of my worries at the moment. I’ll get to the bottom of why she’s so sour toward me, or I won’t. Part of me knows that I probably won’t be here long enough for it to matter either way.

“Wife,” Eren says in a growl. “This is not up for discussion. Tell me.”

Arrogant, obstinate demon.

“I can handle myself, you know,” I say, a bit of a snap in my tone.

“Oh,” he says, voice dropping low as he reaches out to cup his hand over my jaw. “I’m sure you can.”

Whether he can pick up on my abrupt change in mood, or whether he just wants to distract me from the frustration of trying to translate and everything I refuse to say about what’s happened between Vayla and me, I’m not sure.

What Iamsure of is that as soon as his hand has curled around the bottom of my chin, that familiar, delicious heat rises in me again. It pushes outwards, filling up my blood and bones and soul until there’s no more room for my doubts and fears.

His touch on my skin is all it takes to bring me eagerly to my feet. I don’t know whether he leans in first, or I do, but his lips are on mine a moment later in a firm, devouring kiss that leaves me breathless. In the middle of it, he pushes the books on the table aside, grabs my ass in both his hands and lifts me up onto the tabletop. I wrap my legs around him instinctively, keeping him close.

“There’s something you denied me last night, witch,” he says, breaking the kiss to bite at my bottom lip. “I mean to have it.”

Before I can guess what he means, Eren drops to kneel on the braided rug beneath the table. He grabs me under the knees and pulls me forward until my ass is perched right on the edge.

“Eren!” I protest. “Someone is going to hear.”

“Let them.”

The dress slides like water up my calves and thighs until it’s pooled around my hips. Eren must not have gotten a good look at the underthings his staff left for me, because the groan of surprise he lets out when he sees the little, cream-colored lace underwear sounds like it comes from the bottom of his soul.

“These are a sin,” he says, running his thumb up my slit over the lace. “Pure, filthy sin.” His mouth follows, tongue tracing the already damp fabric and molding it against me. “Who gave you permission to wear lace after what I did to the last pair?”

I buck against him. “I don’t need your permission.”

Eren’s red eyes gleam up at me from between my thighs. “And I don’t need your permission to shred these indecent little things.”

“You wouldn’t,” I breathe.

His hands grip my thighs, claws pressing dangerously into my skin. “You want to bet on that, witch?”

“Yes,” I say, and he gives me a little swat between my legs. The delicious, stinging surprise of it makes me yelp. “I don’t think you’d like it if I walked around all day with nothing between me and any random demon I come across but the thin skirt of this dress.”

Eren growls, and there’s no playfulness in the sound. He gives my pussy another little spank and I can’t help but cry out, the sweet sting sending bolts of fire through me.

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